


robbin' you

by sleepoverwork



Series: Tony Stark Bingo (2019 edition) [5]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Gen, Happy Ending, M/M, Minor Sharon Carter/Natasha Romanov, Minor Violence, Possible Underage Drinking, Pre-Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark, Protective Bucky Barnes, Thief Bucky, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, both of these boys end up okay, do not copy to another site, meet ugly, mentions of over drinking, rich people being rich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 06:56:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20078020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepoverwork/pseuds/sleepoverwork
Summary: James goes out for a night of light shopping at his favorite bar, The Gambit, for shits and giggles. He hasn't gotten the chance to go back to his roots and his pickpocketing skills are a little rusty.What is a sure to be a good night surrounded by the moneybags of New York City taking a walk on the shiftier side of town, turns into James playing hero and ending up with his very own damsel in distress.A.K.A James Barnes is a lot of things, a liar, an asshole, a thief, just to name a few, but he isn't heartless.





	robbin' you

**Author's Note:**

> Wooooo. Back again and with no shits to give.
> 
> I wrote this over the span of six hours. Which for many would be plenty of time but I am not many. I am me and slow.
> 
> Thank you [Lore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lets_call_me_Lily/), who beta'd this lil shit. Your comments were extremely insightful and I am very grateful you took the time to not only beta this but also explain grammar to me. Also, your suggestions to help the fic were BRILLIANT. Thank you immensely <3
> 
> All leftovers mistakes are mine, the writing is mine, the low-key no-fucks-to-give- attitude is mine, and this love for you, is mine. From the heart of my bottom ;) 
> 
> Thank you~
> 
> WinterironWeek Day 1: First Meeting/Secret Caretaking  
TSB T-2 Mutual Appreciation Society  
BBB B-4 Thief

_When life robs you, sometimes you have to rob it back - the book thief_

James usually hit up The Gambit strictly on weekdays, when the crowd wasn’t overwhelming but it was still busy enough for people to blend in easily.

The Gambit had a chill atmosphere for being a gay bar-club hybrid of sorts. They didn’t blast the music, and because it was under the bartenders’ control, a song was rarely played twice in one night.

As it was, James was out this Saturday on the hunt. His best friend, and pretty much brother all but in blood, Steve had been told by his boyfriend, Sam, who had gotten word of the hit from Sharon at their Wednesday night book club, who half-lived with her neighbor down the hall Natasha, whose friend Clint worked the night shift on Mondays at Midtown bank with Remy Lebeau, _that_ big fish were coming into The Gambit on Saturday night. 

Honestly, James didn’t know how the ex-con man managed to get security work at a bank, but if anyone could sell a line, it was Remy. They had crossed paths, mostly at The Gambit itself, since Remy was one of their lead bartenders, but besides exchanging a few words they didn’t really talk. 

James entered from the south side, the farthest from the main floor, wearing blue jeans, a red long sleeve shirt, and biker gloves to hide his metal arm as much as possible. No need to draw attention to his left hand unnecessarily. Although it did provide a little more challenge when James was trying to go unnoticed.

The lights had been dimmed, the dance floor was flooded with people, and drinks were flowing.

He spotted Remy working the bar right away. He was leaning over it, a charming smile plastered on his face as he spoke to a pair of ladies who looked like they were on the wrong side of 21 to be in this establishment. They were giggling and blushing at whatever compliment Remy was paying them, falling right where the Cajun wanted them; ready to open their wallets a little wider. Remy stuffed the cash into the inside pocket of his open shirt, noticed James somehow from across the dance floor, and threw him a wink.

James threw back the bird, but stalked to the bar to get something to drink from Brunhilde. She had an 805 open in front of him by the time he sat on a stool.

“He is going to work those poor girls right out of Daddy’s retirement money,” she shook her head, staring at the scene fifteen feet away from them.

James scanned The Gambit, pretending he wasn’t taking in the LV purse dangling from one of the girl’s shoulders, the other’s Chanel gold dress, the assortment of jewellery and riches fairly dripping from their scantily-clad bodies. Big fish indeed.

James took a swig, licked his lips, and counted at least seven other big spenders. 

“What’s the occasion for them to be swimming in our little pond?”

Eight.

“Them,” Brunhilde parroted with a snort. “How fucking pretentious of you.”

James took another sip to hide his smile.

“Go on then Winter. Go play with your food. Gods know you don’t actually need the money,” Brunhilde said before leaving James with the plump, naive sheep.

She understood the need for the thrill. How even though James had grown out of his street-kid days and no longer had to resort to stealing to survive, it was such an ingrained habit that it left an itch in his bones. Looking over at Remy basking in the money a new crowd of partiers were throwing at him, James hated to admit that even if they weren’t exactly friends, they were two kindred souls.

Draining the last of his 805, James got to work.

He tested how many wallets he could pluck by simply strolling through the crowd to the other side of the room. The answer was seven. A pathetic warm-up attempt. Damn, he was out of practice. He gave them all back, missing some cash of course, but hey, they got their cards and IDs back at least.

After a few rounds, he was starting to get bored. Rich people were always a toss of the dice; either they were overly paranoid or extremely naive about their wealth. This crowd was falling on the latter side, but luckily for them, James wasn’t interested in anything other than skimming a few bills off people for the fun of it.

It all went to shit when some short asshole got onto the table and slurred, “A round of tequila on me” before promptly losing his balance. 

James, being an asshole but not heartless, managed to grab the guy by the suit collar with his left hand, metal tearing through some of the fabric in James’ haste, and save him from face planting on the floor. No one else made a move to help, just laughed and pointed at the drunkard, sloshing their own drinks everywhere.

“Oh wow. You’re an angel,” the man, and James took back the drunk comment because this guy had passed that a while back and was nearing the black-out phase, said. When James went to let go, the man almost collapsed on himself and would have if James hadn’t quickly jammed an arm under his armpit and kept supporting him.

“I could kill myself on a jawline like yours.”

James almost dropped the man for that comment. What a total—

“Tony. Tony, man,” A man with blond spiked hair called out, taking Tony’s other side to help apparently-Tony, stand. “Sorry about him, he drank a little too much.”

Tony’s attention shifted to the newcomer and he babbled some kind of unintelligible greeting. So they knew each other, at least.

James raised an eyebrow but didn’t let go of Tony. There was something slimy about the blond’s smile. The man had obviously also been drinking heavily too, judging by the way his eyes were glassed over, but James knew a predator when he saw one and the blond was sending out all sorts of asshole vibes.

James heard Tony muttering something about his physique, unaware of his surroundings and wasted at 10pm.

“I’ve got him, don’t worry tough guy.” The blond reached over with his other hand and patted James’s chest. “Thanks for the save though, let me get you a drink.”

James carefully released his grip on Tony and the man hauled Tony’s arm around his shoulders to drag him over to the bar.

He really shouldn’t get any more involved. Just let these idiots figure it out for themselves, but Steve was rubbing off on him in the worst ways.

Cursing his bad luck under his breath, James pushed his way through the crowd that had closed around Tony and his “friend”, only to find the two surrounded by a group that was holding Tony’s mostly unconscious form up as an afterthought. There the blond was, a card in his hand that even from this far, clearly said the name “Anthony Edward” something-or-other, which was clearly not his own, and obnoxiously hollering for Remy’s attention.

James locked eyes with Remy, mouthed sorry, and went to work.

By 10:30pm, James was walking home, Tony passed out on his back. James had tried to wake the man a few times when they first had to leave The Gambit. Hopefully he wouldn’t be banned for life for breaking a stool over every one of those idiots’ heads. His left sleeve was dangling at the seams from when Remy tried to yank James off the blond. Considering James still had the man’s blood inside the gears of his fist from where he’d beaten the blond’s face into a brand new shape, he figured it was a fair trade.

Tony smacked his lips in his sleep, bringing James back to the present and assuring him that the man was still alive. 

Fuck, James was really getting soft. 

With nowhere else to go, James walked the five more miles home. Steve was sleeping over at Sam’s, bless small miracles, because James didn’t want to try to explain why he was arriving home with a strange wasted man draped over his shoulders. Steve would understand, but he would probably also rush down to The Gambit in all his 5’5’’ glory to finish the goons off himself in a righteous fury.

And then James would have to stop his little brother from becoming a murderer, because if one of them was going to jail it sure as hell was going to be James.

Making the quick decision to lay Tony on his bed, James removed the man’s suit jacket and shoes, got water and the whole bottle of extra strength Tylenol, and brought over the bathroom’s small trash can in case Tony got sick.

James debated taking the couch, but considering how drunk Tony was and his probably dehydration, he figured he probably should keep an eye on the guy so he didn’t choke on his own puke or die of alcohol poisoning in the middle of the night.

Grabbing a few blankets, he tucked Tony in and then lay beside him, reasoning that he was watching the other man’s breathing for signs of danger. He got a little side tracked by the length of Tony’s eyelashes and how they fluttered slightly as his eyes twitched in his sleep. Following down a mostly straight nose—it looked as though it hadn’t been reset it properly after a break— James watched Tony’s slightly parted lips for a moment before shaking his head.

This wasn’t appropriate and not the time to check out a stranger. Hell, he had practically kidnapped the man.

He did, however, reach over to brush some of the floppy brown locks from Tony’s face and rest his flesh hand on the man’s forehead to check for fever. 

Finding no more excuses, James rolled over to his back and stared at the ceiling for answers.

And, if they woke up tomorrow, somehow getting tangled together during the night with Tony’s face in James’s neck, James’s own face smooshed into Tony’s hair, arms and legs all wrapped around each other, well… that was a story for another time.

**Author's Note:**

> You know, I forgot, but as usual. I would never have gotten back into writing without the support of my amazing friendos in the Winteriron server. I will never say it enough, thank you guys for being my inspiration, my hopes, and my loves. _snuggles for all_


End file.
